


I Love You When You're Sneaky

by Deannie



Series: I Love You When [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-07-16
Updated: 1997-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2nd in the 'I Love You When' series.  Jim serves a search warrant, and Blair does some searching of his own.<br/>Sequel to I Love You When You're Angry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You When You're Sneaky

## I Love You When You're Sneaky

by Dean Warner  


Jim stood in the doorway, surveying the area. He didn't see anyone he knew, thank God. Good thing this place was so big. Probably none of these people had every seen him before, or if they had, it was only in passing. 

He stepped up to the counter, and was faced by a vacuous-looking blonde. 

"Continuing Ed is upstairs and to your left," she told him shortly. 

Jim flashed her a plastic smile, suddenly realising that he could have cast his genuine high beams on her and he still would have gotten the same response. 

Time to play Cop. 

He pulled out his badge, showing it to her carefully, just to make sure she understood. "I'm Detective Ellison of the Cascade P.D.," he stated, as business-like as he could manage. "Could I see..." He consulted his notepad--purely for effect. "Miss Farrar please?" 

The blonde swallowed nervously. " _I'm_ Jenny Farrar." 

Now how did I _know_ you were going to say that? Jim wondered. 

"Miss Farrar, I was told that you could help me retrieve some records on a student here..."  
  


* * *

Blair pushed open his office door blindly, his arms too full of books for him to see beyond them. He nearly jumped a foot when half of the books were pulled unceremoniously from his grasp. 

"Need some help, Chief?" 

He looked up at Jim, whose eyes were dancing with amusement. Sometimes it seemed like the big cop really got off on Blair's life as a teaching fellow... 

Which was just fine with Blair. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked, dropping the remaining books on a free chair and motioning for Jim to do the same with the ones he'd rescued. 

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch with me." 

Blair shook his head. "Sorry, man. I can't. I have to spend as much time as I can today calling all the kids from my Anthro 101 class. If I don't get those grades in by the end of the week, Hillary is going to kill me." 

Jim pouted. 

"Jim," Blair moaned, long-suffering. "You know I _hate_ it when you do that." 

The big detective slumped into a chair like a four-year-old, his lower lip jutting out in disappointment. "I just wanted to go to lunch with my lover," he whined. 

Blair sighed hugely. "Jim..." 

"Please?" The lip was trembling now. 

"You know," Blair stated conversationally, as he tidied up the office. "I think your dick is taking too much blood from your brain these days. I don't remember you being this silly before we started sleeping together." 

Jim's visage brightened. "Then it's all your fault, and you _have_ to come to lunch with me--to make up for my starving brain cells." 

His partner laughed. "And your starving stomach, right?" 

Jim rubbed the area in question. "That, too." 

"What am I going to do with you?" Blair asked, mock frustration in his voice. 

Jim came around the desk in a flash, hugging his lover to him. "I can think of any number of things," he told him huskily. 

"Yeah well," Blair replied, fighting laughter. "Not in my office, thanks." He grabbed his backpack and headed for the door. "Where do you want to go?" 

"Paliagi's?" 

"Sounds great. I have a class at one, though, so it'll have to be a quickie." 

"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty."  
  


* * *

Lunch was punctuated by more of Jim's silliness, and Blair tried to figure out the reason behind his lover's high spirits. All Jim would say in response to his questions was that he didn't have to work that afternoon, and it had left him feeling frisky. 

"Frisky, huh?" Blair replied with a smile. "Well, as soon as I get all those calls made today, maybe I'll run home and find out just how frisky you are." 

Jim's smile was absolutely vixen. "Talk fast, Sandburg."  
  


* * *

"Detective Ellison?" 

The call distracted him as he stepped into Rainer University's registrar's office for the second time that day. The woman who had called him was tall and dark-haired, and Jim was sure he'd never seen her before. 

"Yes, I'm Detective Ellison." 

"Thought so," she replied with a smile. "Jen was right. You are _clearly_ labeled COP!" She handed over a sheaf of papers, grinning as he leafed through them carefully. "That's everything we have--including last semester's grades. We ran out the entire rosters for each of the classes, just like you asked." She looked irritated briefly. "One of the classes wasn't in the computer, for some reason. We had to dig it up from the hardcopy files." 

Jim nodded seriously, but his smile was gentle. "Thank you..." He looked up, waiting for her to supply her name. 

"Sarah," she offered through a blush. Her tone was suddenly timid. "Can I ask you what Connor's being investigated for?" 

Jim just flashed another plastic smile, knowing that Sarah, at least, would be able to tell the difference. 

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he stated, straight-faced. "Police Business."  
  


* * *

Class had dragged, and Blair knew that the rest of the afternoon would be even worse. He still couldn't believe his luck. Damnit! Why did these things always have to happen to _him?_

He slumped into his office, kicking a mound of books out of his way as he headed for the desk. 

On the blotter was a small stack of papers, with a note on top: 

> Take the afternoon off.  
>  _I_ did.  
>  \--Jim

He looked down at the printouts beneath the note, and his breath caught. His class. Anthro 101! _All_ of it! The entire roster, from what looked like the registrar's offices own files. _Everything!_

"Oh, Jim," he whispered, sitting down at his desk. "Oh, man, you are going to get the screwing of your _life_ tonight... Man, I _love_ you when you're sneaky!" 

Just how sneaky his lover had been, Blair wasn't sure, so he decided that descretion was the better part of valour, and copied all the grades out by hand. He didn't want to blow what was surely a perfect Ellison snow job by handing the registrar's office back their _own_ files.  
  


* * *

"Hey, Professor Sandburg." 

Blair looked up at the sweet young thing behind the desk. "Oh, hey, Sarah." He handed over the appropriate forms with a flourish, leaning into the desk cheekily. "Can I watch while you put those in. I sent them over once before, but I guess Jenny... _misplaced_ them." 

Sarah frowned. "Lost them in a ditsy haze, is more likely, Professor," she replied. "This'll just take a minute..." She stopped in the act of turning toward the computer, scanning the pages he'd handed her. "Um, no. Actually it won't take any time at all." She handed him back the papers. "Those grades got entered in today." 

Blair tried not to smile at the worried look on the young student's face. What had Jim pulled here? 

"Really?" he passed back calmly. "That's strange." 

"Um, yeah..." She fidgeted slightly. "Listen, Professor Sandburg... Did the police contact you today?" 

Blair fought his laughter. _I wake up to the police every morning, Sarah. Trust me, the contact is pretty much constant._

"No, why should they?" 

Sarah looked both ways and leaned in. "There was a cop here. A Detective Ellison, asking about records for Connor Danby..." She whispered conspiratorally. "Personally, I'm betting they're investigating him for _drugs._ " 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, that's why I asked you if they'd contacted you. And that's why your files have already been entered. See, he wanted the entire class rosters and final grades for all of Connor's classes for last year, and well... We'd found the hardcopies, so I figured I'd just get one of the interns to enter them." 

Blair did smile now, though he kept in an evil, full-bellied laugh. "Thanks, Sarah, I really appreciate it." 

"Sure," she offered as he headed for the door. "Oh! Hey! Professor Sandburg?" 

Blair turned back curiously. "Yeah." 

"Listen..." She blushed. "If you see that Detective Ellison, can you tell him I said hi... He was _so_ sexy!" 

"I know," Blair whispered under his breath as he ran for his car. 

He broke the speed limit in three different places getting home.  
  


* * *

Something was tickling his nose. It felt like... not a feather... not a... 

It was a _Blair!_

Jim opened his eyes to find Blair's finger under his nose, running back and forth just enough for Jim's sensitive skin to pick it up. And the finger was _awfully_ close to Jim's mouth. Close enough to bite. 

"Ow!" Blair pulled back the injured digit, shaking his hand to clear away an imaginary pain. "Man, you know I _write_ with that hand!" 

Jim sat up, smiling broadly. "Can I kiss it and make it better?" 

Blair made a show of debating with himself, and finally offered his hand up for Jim's inspection. 

Jim laughed as Blair once again pulled back a bitten hand. The kid would _never_ learn. 

"Man!" Blair moved off the bed entirely now, heading for the stairs. "I don't know what your problem is lately," he bitched, making his way toward the kitchen now. "You pull that pouty thing on me--twice in one week!--and then you go over the registrar's office. What were you thinking? You've got the rumour mill running overtime. Everyone thinks Connor Danby is being investigated by the police!" 

Jim had followed him down, and now stood with the kitchen island between them as the late afternoon sun formed a dropback of golds and yellows behind him. 

"He is." 

Blair stopped a moment and looked up in shock. "He _is?_ " 

Jim's laughter seemed to mock him briefly. 

"Yeah, Chief, he _is._ Drug dealing." He shrugged. "Penny ante stuff, really, but I told my friends over in Campus Security that I'd help them out by getting copies of his records." 

Blair handed his partner a beer. "And you just _had_ to have records that complete, did you?" he asked suspiciously. 

Jim took a swig of beer before answering, as he led the way toward the couch. "Sure! I mean, think about it, Chief. He's drug dealing... Maybe he's dealing to people in his classes. Makes sense, right?" Blair nodded dubiously, sliding onto the couch so that he could cuddle into Jim's side. "So we need to see if any of the kids who had classes with him had dramatic drop-offs in their grades--a sure sign of drug use." He smiled patronisingly at his young lover. 

"Come on, Sandburg," he teased. "I thought you were _good_ at this investigative stuff." 

"You--" 

Blair managed to knock Jim to his back on the couch and land on top of him with a resounding thud--and all without spilling a drop of either of their beers. He began to unbutton Jim's shirt as the detective pushed the beer bottles out of the way. 

"I better investigate _this,_ huh?" Blair asked, still using that wonderfully irritated voice of his. The sex was always _incredible_ when Blair used that voice--probably because he could still almost trick Jim into believing his lover was actually angry. 

And Jim always liked make-up sex best. Even when there was nothing to make up _for._  
  


* * *

The strip-search hadn't taken _too_ long. Just long enough that Jim was ready to foresake his rule about no sex in the living room and let Blair take him right on the table. Luckily, the anthropologist had kept his wits _mostly_ about him, and managed to get them to the bed in relatively short order. 

"Okay, Jim, now you've messed it up." 

Jim looked up at his lover questioningly. "How?" 

"Well," Blair explained, stretching out to blanket himself over his partner. "See, I _was_ going to come home this afternoon and thank you for finding those grades for me." 

He kissed his way along Jim's jawline, and the detective had to grit his teeth to keep from drowning in the sensation. God! Blair was fantastic! Jim wondered briefly--and only _very_ briefly, given the current state of his libido--whether Blair's status as Guide had anything to do with the kid's ability to drive each and every inch of his Sentinel absoultely _crazy._

Blair ran a delicate tongue down to work on one of Jim's nipples, and the Sentinel groaned. 

Yep. Definitely genetic. 

It was a surprise when the sensation stopped, and Jim's eyes snapped open to see Blair standing by the bed suddenly, hands on hips. 

"What?" Jim asked hoarsely. 

"I said I _was_ going to thank you, Jim," Blair said, quietly. And then he did something that, if Jim hadn't been so ready to be fucked blue by this little demon, might possibly have been the funniest thing he could ever seen Blair do. 

Blair pouted. 

Not a normal Blair-pout--no puppydog eyes and soft dip of the head, no. No, this was... 

This was a _Jim_ -pout! And Blair saw the recognition in Jim's face immediately. 

"You made fun of me," Blair whined--Jim-style. He still had that pout on his face, and Jim really, _really_ wanted him to stop. "I was only trying to thank you." 

"I had a little something more in mind for your thanking me, Blair," Jim answered, watching the pout grow. "Chief..." He blew out his breath in irritation. "Come on, Blair. Stop that." 

"Do you hate when I do this?" Blair asked. 

"Yes! Yes, I hate it when you do that!" 

Blair bounced back onto the bed, taking Jim all the way down with him and placidly starting back to work on the detective's nipples again. 

"Good," Blair stated smugly between sucks. "Now you know how I feel." 

"All right, all right," Jim moaned, less in irritation and more in arousal, as Blair began to lick and suck his way down his partner's stomach. Kid had the most unbelievable tongue. It was like a cat's--smooth and rough by turns and oh-so-talented. "I promise not to pout anymore." 

"Unless I want you to." 

Jim stopped playing with his lover's hair. "Wait a minute. How am I supposed to know when you _want_ me to?" 

Blair looked up from his lover-bathing, and smiled like the Cheshire Cat. "You have to guess." 

Jim chuckled as Blair worked his way down. "Okay," Jim whispered, grabbing hold of Blair's shoulders. " _Now_ who's getting silly." 

Blair looked indignant as Jim's grasp stopped him from descending to his ultimate goal. "Jim! What _you're_ allowed to get silly, but _I_ 'm not? I--" 

He stopped abruptly. After all, bitching was difficult to do when your lover had suddenly pulled your mouth up to his and stuck his tongue down your throat. 

" _I_ get to be silly," Jim agreed. 

"And sneaky," Blair added as they came up for breath. 

" _And_ sneaky." 

Blair slipped a condom and their lube into his lover's hand, grinning evilly as he reared up, presenting his now-sizeable erection for dressing. As Jim looked up at him, pouting only mildly, Blair leaned over to whisper another item on their list of things that Jim got to be... 

"And _first!_ "  
  


* * *

Jim stopped the pout immediately. Blair was in a mood--this one was a _good_ mood. The mood that said that Jim was going to get the screwing of his life tonight. 

He'd never worked so fast to prepare his lover to enter him.  
  


* * *

And Blair didn't disappoint. He knew that Jim liked it rough sometimes--the big guy was just too straight-laced to say it. But even if he _didn't_ want it rough tonight, Jim was going to get it all the same. 

And if Blair timed this just right, he'd be able to prove that Jim wasn't the _only_ sneaky one around here. 

Face to face, eye to eye with his lover, Blair took Jim harder than he ever had before, so hard that, when he came--when they _both_ came together-- _Jim_ was the one who nearly passed out from the sensation. Blair withdrew, cleaned them both up slightly, and rolled back into bed, craddling Jim carefully in his arms. 

"Thank you, Jim," Blair whispered. 

The Sentinel lay there, boneless, trying to work up the energy to ask "thanks for _what?_ "... 

But he fell asleep before he got to it.  
  


* * *

Jim woke to a quiet night. No Blair... He considered pouting to himself, but figured he'd better just get into the habit of not doing that anymore. He wanted more nights like this one--and Blair could pick any number of bad times to remind Jim of his vow of "non-poutiness". 

The detective tried to climb slowly out of bed, but he didn't quite make it. God! Blair never told me he could do _that!_

Of course, he replied to himself, you never asked, did you? That'll teach you. 

A couple more tries, and Jim was finally vertical. Getting downstairs to the bathroom and the shower from there wasn't much of a chore, and he felt more mobile after twenty minutes of guilt-free hot water. 

But he still stepped out from under the spray without a Blair in evidence. 

He looked around for a note, and noticed only that the answering machine light was blinking, which meant he'd really been out of it after Blair finished with him. The message was a little scratchy, as if the call had been made from a phone booth: 

"Hey, Jim! Listen--" There was laughter in Blair's voice. "I figured you'd be down for the count for a while after this afternoon, so I figured I'd catch that 'artsy' French film you wouldn't take me to." He chuckled out loud now. "Don't pout, okay, Big Guy? I'll make it up to you if you wake up before I get back." 

Jim listened to the machine cut off and looked around himself, as if expecting some ghost to be laughing at him. Tricked! Fucked so blind that he'd been all but unconscious for long enough for Blair to sneak out unnoticed. 

He smiled broadly. 

"Man, Chief, you're good. I _love_ you when you're sneaky!"  
  


* * *

Send comments to the author at xangst@frii.com  
.  
Use your browser's back feature to return to your story selections or start  
a [new search](http://b-b-t.mit.edu/SXF/cgi-bin/senslash/storysearch.cgi).


End file.
